


from me to you

by noahczerns



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, uhhh Daichi is the sappiest sap to ever sap?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 03:10:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13114746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahczerns/pseuds/noahczerns
Summary: Working at the same coffee shop all summer, Suga gets into a routine. That is until he starts receiving notes in his tip jar and he begins to hope that they're from someone he knows.





	from me to you

**Author's Note:**

> this is for [amajikies](http://amajikies.tumblr.com) for the haikyuu secret santa 2017 !! merry christmas & i hope u like the gift!!

_Summer’s over too soon; I wouldn’t mind spending my winters with you._

Suga read over the note three times before putting it in his back pocket. Without having to look, he knew a splash of pink was staining his cheeks. It was the fourth note this week, and it was only Wednesday morning. How on Earth had the writer gotten it in before they opened?

He shook his head, unable to resist smiling to himself and began to wipe down the countertop.

After almost a week of receiving the notes, containing snippets of lyrics and poetry, he was as far from figuring out who was sending them as he had been on the first day he’d found a handwritten note tucked in his tip jar amongst the other notes and coins.

It was still early, and the coffee shop he worked at wasn’t opening for another half an hour yet. Sunlight pooled in from the wall of windows, giving the little shop a golden glow across the mismatched sets of tables and chairs. His boss, and the owner of the store, Ukai, didn’t exactly have an eye for interior design, but somehow it still worked. If this were a chain store, it might’ve looked a little unprofessional, but since it was independent, Suga thought it added a spark of character to the place.

Once he was happy with how the countertop gleamed back at him, Suga moved onto one of the tables. Some of his co-workers would be arriving soon to help him open up; he had forgotten to check the rota to see who it would be today, but he wouldn’t have to wait long to find out.

Suga was scrubbing at a particularly tough coffee ring when the bell above the entrance chimed. He lifted his head to see Kageyama falling through the door. Literally. He had tripped on the step. A scowl bloomed across his face, and Suga swore he heard a grumble of _stupid dumbass step_ under Kageyama’s breath.

“Good morning, Kageyama.” Suga hid his laugh behind the cloth he’d been wiping the table with.

Kageyama stood abruptly, closing the door behind him; his frown was now nowhere to be seen. “Good morning, Suga-san.”

“How are you this morning?” Suga asked, taking a break from his vigorous wiping and instead leaning against the table to greet Kageyama, secretly and a little guiltily hoping that he might stumble again. It had been a slow morning.  

“I’m fine,” Kageyama replied, clearly refusing to acknowledge his tripping incident. He walked past Suga and headed around the back of the counter, where he retrieved a black apron and slipped it over his head. “What about you?”

Suga hummed. “I’m good. Do you know who was working late yesterday?” He tried to keep his voice nonchalant, but Kageyama was dense enough for him not to worry about it too much.

“Uh,” Kageyama said, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m not sure, I wasn’t here yesterday.”

“Ah.” Suga bit his lip. “That’s okay, thanks anyway.”

Kageyama went back to the door and flipped the sign to say _open_. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” said Suga, waving him off.

He had been hoping that Kageyama would have at least been able to give him a couple of names to narrow down his search; after all, the only way someone would be able to sneak a note into his tip jar after closing time would be if they worked here. Alas, he would have to search harder to find the culprit.

The first time he received one of the notes in the jar he had assumed it was from a customer who simply wanted to make their tip a little more personal, but now that they were appearing more often, Suga was certain that this was not the case; it wasn’t like they got too many regular customers, anyway.

There was a little something inside of him that _hoped_ it was _someone_ , but he didn’t let that stray too far.

“Are you still going to work here once school starts up again?” Suga said almost whimsically to fill the silence before their first customers arrived. He went back to wiping the tables; he’d given up on the coffee ring. He’d scrubbed at it on various shifts over the summer and it wasn’t going to let up now.

“Only at the weekends, I think,” Kageyama replied, leaning his elbows on the counter with his chin in his hands, eyes fixed on the door.

Suga nodded. “I think I’ll do that too. Maybe some afternoons as well.”

Ten minutes later, the bell above the door chimed again; Suga turned instinctively towards the sound. Coming through the door was Daichi. His short, dark hair was slightly windswept since he often opted for the un-styled look as he had today, and his cheeks were faintly flushed from the incoming cooler air of autumn. He closed the door behind him, making the bell echo once more.

“What time do you call this?” Suga raised an eyebrow, though he was unable to keep a straight face as Daichi slung his jacket off his shoulders.

Daichi rubbed the back of his head, smiling too. “Sorry, I slept through my alarm. Don’t tell Ukai.”

Suga rolled his eyes, his smile still stubbornly clinging to his lips. Daichi wasn’t too late, anyway. “I guess that can be forgiven. I won’t tell him.”

“Ah, thanks, Suga,” Daichi teased back. “Morning, Kageyama.” Daichi waved at him.

“Morning, Daichi-san,” said Kageyama, his voice slightly monotone. Suga didn’t blame him; this morning was particularly quiet, even by his standards.

“Is there even anything for me to do since there aren’t any customers yet?” Daichi asked, looking around the empty coffee shop.

“You can help me clean,” Suga replied, “Besides, we only just opened, you know how it is. The customers’ll come soon.”

Suga, as he usually was, was right. Not long after Daichi arrived, so did the customers. There weren’t too many, but there were enough to keep the three of them busy. Just as Suga finished cleaning up one table, coffee would be spilt on another. He didn’t mind; the work was enough to keep him on his toes, and it paid decently well.

“Daichi! We need a tea refill at this table,” Suga practically yelled from the yellowing round table paired with a blue checked pattern sofa, swiping up the empty teapot and milk jug. As he took them back to the kitchen to be washed up, he bumped hips with Daichi, grinning as he did so. Daichi stumbled slightly and his face twisted into a distorted silent scream as he desperately tried to keep the newly filled teapot upright.

“Not so hard next time, Suga!” Daichi called over his shoulder. Suga smiled back at him, so big his eyes closed.

When he opened his eyes again, he spotted Kageyama sneaking glances around him before grabbing a plastic milk pot from the stash behind the counter, peeling the lid off, then lifting it towards his lips.

“Hey!” If his hands weren’t full, Suga would have pointed at him. “That milk isn’t for you to drink!”

Kageyama blinked, the pot of milk already pouring into his mouth, like a deer caught in headlights. He swallowed. “I was thirsty.”

Suga shook his head, holding back a laugh. They had tonnes of milk; he supposed they could spare one pot. _If_ that was all Kageyama had drank.

Almost every day in the summer had been like this, and Suga didn’t want it to end.

Just before lunch-time, another of their co-workers joined them to prepare for the midday rush. As he was busy cleaning up a notoriously sticky patch of spilt, dried orange juice, Suga didn’t notice until said co-worker was directly beside him.

“Koushi-chan!”

Suga inhaled sharply. “Exactly how many times have I told you not to call me that?”

Suga, with a hand on his hip, turned on his heel to face Oikawa. Not put down at all, Oikawa smiled back at him with his seashell-like teeth gleaming.

Oikawa clucked his tongue. “Come on, it’s a cute name.”

Suga turned back to the table, scrubbing harder than before. “Maybe. If it wasn’t coming from you.”

“Ouch, Kou-”

Suga darted his elbow out to the side; a direct hit to Oikawa’s stomach. Oikawa groaned in pain. “Shouldn’t you be getting to work?” Suga said, turning his head to look at Oikawa and putting on his sweetest smile. Oikawa delved towards Suga’s side with his own elbow, but Suga slid out of the way at the last second.

Oikawa narrowed his eyes at Suga, though there was a still a hint of a smile on his lips as he walked past him and towards the counter.

From a few tables away, Suga heard a sudden outburst of laughter. Looking up, he saw Daichi clutching his stomach with one hand, and grasping the corner of the table for balance with the other.

Suga tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

“Kou –” Daichi was cut off by his own laughter. Suga rolled his eyes, but a grin crept its way up to the corners of his mouth. “Koushi-chan.” Daichi managed to sputter the name out before being overcome with shuddering laughs again. Suga clenched his fingers around his washcloth, strode the short distance to where Daichi was stood and whacked the cloth across his butt.

The rest of the afternoon passed without further incident, mostly because Suga managed to maintain a considerable distance between Oikawa and Kageyama. They worked together just fine, as long as Kageyama didn’t push Oikawa’s buttons, which he seemed to do just by existing.

Daichi and Kageyama’s shifts finished earlier than Suga and Oikawa, who were left to close up the shop in the late afternoon.

Suga felt as though he were perpetually wiping down tables. Finally, though, he reached the last corner of the last table and put down his cloth for the day. Oikawa was clearing away the last of the dirty mugs and plates to the dishwasher as Suga headed towards the row of tip jars that lined a part of the countertop, directly where the customers could see them.

The jars themselves were small and made of glass with a cork lid; Suga had, on a few occasions, noted that they would look rather pretty with a lit candle inside, smothering the interior with a hot, golden hue. He reached out for the jar that had his name scribbled on it in black sharpie on a white label. Without having to open the lid, he could tell it had been a pretty average day with sales. There was a handful coins and a couple of notes, but what Suga was most interested in was the white, lined paper that stood out from the rest of the contents.

The cork lid popped when he pulled it up and off the jar. Eagerly, he shoved his hand inside, fingers reaching for the white paper. He gripped it carefully and pulled it out. Running his tongue over his lips, Suga unfolded the piece of paper and scanned the words he had, admittedly, been hoping all day that he would find here.

_I love that mole below your eye, I’ve been dreaming that one day I’ll make you mine_

Suga toyed at his lip, feeling heat rush to his neck and cheeks. His finger sub-consciously drifted up towards his mole. He thought it looked more like a speck of dirt than anything; he’d spent hours as a kid trying to scrub it off.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” Oikawa poked his head into Suga’s vision, looking down at the paper before Suga had the chance to swipe it away.

“Nothing,” Suga replied, snatching the paper away from Oikawa’s greedy eyes. Oikawa was off the list of suspects, then. Sending secret messages hadn’t seemed much like Oikawa’s style, anyway.

Oikawa pouted at him. “I thought we were friends. Friends tell each other things.”

Suga sighed, resigning to the fact that even if he refused, Oikawa would pester him until he gave in anyway. He figured he may as well save them both the time and cut to the details. Avoiding Oikawa’s eye, Suga handed him the note. He rubbed his neck, hoping the warmth and inevitable blush would fade as he did so.

Oikawa read the note aloud in a whisper. “Whew,” he said. “Looks like someone’s got a secret admirer.”

“Give me that,” Suga reached out for the note, regret fuelling his every move, but Oikawa lifted it away from him.

Oikawa leaned his head to the side, staring intently at Suga’s face. “That mole _is_ cute, I hadn’t really noticed it before.”

Suga stuck his tongue out at him, then leaned across the counter to seize the note back.

“Who’s it from?” Oikawa asked, looking at the note again and furrowing his eyebrows.

Suga jumped up and snapped the note back up in his hand, then put it in his pocket triumphantly. “I don’t know,” he admitted after it was safe in his possession again.

“Don’t you recognise the handwriting?”

Suga had stared until his eyes watered at the mysterious handwriting as if it would magically rearrange to spell out the name of the owner for him. As it was, he had had no such luck and he definitely did not recognise the handwriting. “No. I think the person who’s sending them works here, though.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Suga continued, pushing his hair behind his ear. “There was another note in there this morning. The only way it could’ve gotten there is if someone put it there last night.”

Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “Who was working last night?”

“I don’t know. I asked Kageyama this morning, but he doesn’t know either; he wasn’t working yesterday.” Suga tapped his fingers on the counter.

“Hm. I wasn’t either.” Oikawa had a scheming look on his face.

“You don’t have to help me find out who’s sending them!” Suga reassured him with a sense of urgency in his voice.

“But I want to, Kou –”

“Nope,” Suga held up his hand as if to physically stop him. “Not happening.”

“Aw, but we could be like detectives.”

“Not a chance.”

**

The next morning, as Suga expected, his tip jar was empty. A little (huge) part of him was disappointed, despite knowing for a fact that there was no chance of there being a note unless the sender had broken in to the coffee shop. Suga doubted anyone would have that amount of dedication to get a note to him. He quickly pushed down his disappointment and got on with the daily tasks as usual.

Suga had barely begun to mop the floor when Daichi came in, his eyelids drooping, and his hair flattened against one side of his head.

Suga smiled and said, “You’re a little early today.”

“Well, I have to make up for yesterday, don’t I?” Daichi tried to return the gesture, but his mouth was caught mid-way by a yawn. The corners of his eyes crinkled in the same way they did when he smiled; Suga swallowed hard. 

“I suppose you do,” Suga replied, hoping the sunlight streaming in through the windows wasn’t hitting his warming cheeks.

“Isn’t Kageyama usually here to help you open up?” asked Daichi, heading for the counter.

“Only some days. No one wants the morning shift.”

“And yet you’re always on it.” Daichi pointed out.

“I am a poor university student, Daichi. I need the money,” Suga said.

In a high voice, Daichi repeated his words.

Suga stuck the mop out in front of Daichi’s feet as he passed. His tongue peeped out of the corner of his mouth.

Daichi jumped over the head of the mop just in time. His feet hit the floor with a thump as he landed ungracefully but steadily; the mop squelched on the floor upon impact. “Better luck next time.” He grinned.

Suga huffed and dragged the mop back to him.

“What was that bang?” Ukai popped his head around the door to the back of the shop with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

“I’d hardly call that a bang…” Daichi started, scratching the back of his neck. Ukai raised an eyebrow sharply. Suga held his breath. “I tripped.”

The narrowing of Ukai’s eyes seemed to suggest that he wasn’t entirely convinced, but he slinked back to where he came from without another word.

Suga slammed what he thought was a light punch into Daichi’s bicep, just below his shoulder. “You saved my ass there.”

Daichi gasped and rubbed the spot where Suga had hit him. “Yeah, yeah I guess I did.”

The first part of the morning usually dragged when he was alone, but now that Daichi was with him to chat to and make fun of, cleaning the entire floor didn’t seem to take as long. Customers wandered in at a steady rate; mainly groups of older people and the occasional group of teenagers. It was never too loud or too busy, but Suga still found himself exhausted by the end of the day. He hadn’t really gotten a break this summer, but at least his bank account would be thanking him at the end of it.

Suga let out a yawn after the last customer left the shop. With it only being him and Daichi for the whole day, the extra work was starting to take its toll.

“Sounds like someone needs an early night,” Daichi said from behind the counter; he looked perkier than he had that morning, but still not his fully energised self.

“No.” Suga yawned again; he covered his mouth with his hand. “Okay, maybe I do.”

“I can give you a lift home, if you want,” Daichi offered, wiping his hands on a tea towel. “My car’s outside, and I know you’ve just got your bike, so…”

Suga’s words caught in his throat. “I – uh, yeah that would be great, thanks. I’ve just got to check something first.”

Whilst Daichi went to collect his jacket, Suga went straight for the tip jars. If there was a note in there, he would know, finally, who they had all been from. Suga almost didn’t want to look. That feeling didn’t last for long, and his eyes fixated on the jar with his name on. He knotted his eyebrows together. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; just loose change and paper money. Suga swallowed harshly and poured the contents into his hands, then filed it away into his wallet. He had, stupidly and involuntarily, let himself hope that it had been Daichi sending him the notes. Daichi, who always shared a laugh with him, and now his car as well. Now, he had absolutely no idea who was sending him the damn notes and he wasn’t exactly sure if he wanted to find out anymore.

He quickly replaced the disappointed look on his face with a smile and turned to Daichi, who was stood waiting for him by the door. “Let’s go,” he said.

Being alone with Daichi in the coffee shop was one thing, but being alone with him in his car was a whole different thing altogether. There would be no customers separating them, nor the omnipresent glare of Ukai even when he wasn’t in the room. Suga had to keep his knees from knocking together at the thought.

Despite Suga’s protests that he could, in fact, do it himself, Daichi hoisted Suga’s bike onto the bike rack on the back of his car.

“I could’ve done that myself,” Suga said for good measure.

Daichi finished attaching the bike to the rack. “With those noodle arms of yours?”

“Hey! I have strong arms, thank you very much,” Suga countered with defiance.

“Sure you do.” Daichi teased.

“I don’t know why I’m accepting a lift from someone who’s being so mean to me.” Suga crossed his arms, but he walked around to the passenger side car door anyway.

Daichi shrugged, smiling. “You can walk if you like.”

“What, you’re stealing my bike now?”

“Well, it is on my car.”

“I knew you had an ulterior motive.” Suga was only just holding down the seal to his laughter. He pulled open the car door and slid into the seat, Daichi not far behind him.

“You figured me out already,” said Daichi, putting his key in the ignition.

“There’s still a lot about you I’d like to figure out,” Suga said before he could stop himself.

Daichi turned to look at him, his eyes shining in the fading light. “Yeah? Like what?”

_Like why you look so good in that leather jacket._ “Like how come you straight up eat lemons?” Suga pulled a face at just the thought of eating a single segment, but it wasn’t quite enough to take his mind off the way Daichi’s jacket clung to his arms.

Daichi tilted his head. “They’re a fruit. Why shouldn’t I straight up eat them?”

“Because they’re _lemons_.”

Daichi shrugged and turned his head back to look at the road as he began to drive. The sun was still stubbornly hanging on the horizon, creating a pink and orange sky. Suga leaned his arm against the car door with his chin resting in his hand. It was nice like this, to just sit in the quiet without even the hum of a radio disturbing them, let alone a handful of chattering customers. Suga didn’t feel the need to say anything; the rumble of the car engine was only increasing his sleepiness anyway. He simply watched Daichi’s hands on the steering wheel from the corner of his eye. He fought away the urge to sleep with every blink, but then his head dropped, and that was that.

Something was prodding him in the shoulder. Suga reluctantly opened his eyes to see that the car had stopped, and they were now outside of his apartment. “Sorry for falling asleep,” he said groggily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“It’s okay. Can’t say the same about your snoring, though.”

Suga sat up in his seat. “I don’t snore.”

Daichi pursed his lips, clearly concealing a laugh. “Right. I guess it was just my car making those noises, then?”

“Ha ha,” said Suga, heavily lacing his tone with sarcasm. He yawned.

“Are you on the morning shift again tomorrow?” Daichi asked, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

Suga nodded. “Mm-hm.”

Daichi ran his tongue over his lips. “You should take a day off sometime, you know.”

“I will soon. Probably.”

Daichi raised an eyebrow. “How about I cover your shift tomorrow, so you can get some rest?”

“No, it’s fine.” Suga waved him off. He reached out to open the car door. “Thanks for the lift. Sorry I wasn’t very talkative.”

Daichi smiled, sending a rush through Suga’s tired body. “Anytime.”

Suga pushed the door open and stepped out. The temperature had dropped considerably since they had left the coffee shop earlier; he rubbed his bare arms as he walked towards the end of the car. Blinking heavily, he freed his bike from the rack and placed it down on the pavement. Something white was sticking out from beneath the seat. Suga cocked an eyebrow and plucked it out; it was a piece of paper. He squinted to make out what it said.

_Sorry about all these cryptic clues, would you mind if I kissed you?_

Suga stared at the note in disbelief. Despite the chill in the air, his face was burning. Either he was jumping to conclusions, or the note hadn’t been there before he and Daichi left the coffee shop. Suga looked up to see Daichi leaning against the side of his car with a sheepish look on his face.

Suga held up the note with a smile widening across his face. “Not exactly clues though, were they?”

“I needed something that rhymed with ‘you’,” Daichi replied, rolling his eyes. “That’s not the part I wanted you to focus on, anyway.” He pushed himself off the car and took a few steps closer to Suga, chewing on his bottom lip. “What do you think about the second part?”

Suga stuck the note in his pocket. “I, uh, I wouldn’t mind, no.” He stepped closer to Daichi until their feet touched. Suga inhaled sharply through his nose; the night air nipped at his skin.

Daichi reached out a hand until it rested on Suga’s cheek and encouraged his face closer. His fingers were cool against Suga’s still-blushing cheek. This close, Suga could see flecks of ochre in the pool of deep brown that was Daichi’s eyes. The seconds dragged as Suga flitted his eyes down to Daichi’s lips until he couldn’t take it anymore. He pushed through those last few millimetres until his mouth pressed against Daichi’s. It was warmer and softer than he had expected, though he wasn’t sure why; Daichi had the warmest personality of any guy he had ever met. Daichi’s fingers curled around Suga’s jaw as he kissed back, soft, but with a force behind it.

Reluctantly, Suga pulled away to catch his breath and rested his forehead on Daichi’s.

“I hoped the notes were from you,” Suga confessed in a whisper.

Suga felt Daichi’s smile as he kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on [tumblr](http://sugakoush.tumblr.com) !!!


End file.
